


tail ends

by flowersforlukey



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-13 00:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15351717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforlukey/pseuds/flowersforlukey
Summary: Steve gives him a pointed look. “He never left you.”“He never will,” Thor finds himself agreeing. The sun radiates far into the stretch of the horizon, a place of tranquility too far to even dream of reaching. “He saved me.”in which Thor wakes up every morning in Wakanda to catch the sun rising.





	tail ends

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! Unfortunately, this is not yet the Stipper!Loki one-shot I promised, but HERE have some sad Thorki to ruin your day (sorry not sorry)
> 
> also, somebody please help me not write too much sad thorki fics, it's unbEARBLE
> 
> Enjoy!

Like fallen crust swept over silken sheets, and fingers delicately ridding off the strays, the dirt clad soles of Thor’s boots brush against fertile Wakandan soil, causing crunching noises as Thor places foot after foot.

Crisp wind bites at his skin, triggering unconscious shivers from the base of his spine. On Midgard, mornings have always been cold, embracing his arms with a sudden chill until the sun rises and heat consoles his skin. Today, it is a lot colder, and Thor regrets not having the chance to cloak himself with sheets thicker than the shirt he has on.

The ground shakes at his every step. His fingers blindly reach for the familiar feel of the bark of the axe, once searing from the rebirth of a star but still in accordance to the call of his palm.

He hasn’t lifted Stormbreaker yet. Somehow a little voice at the back of the hollows of his mind has made its presence by leaving the doubt over his worthiness, afraid that its edges will remain wedged into the soil even at the tightest of his grips and the greatest of his conviction.

The morning calls to him, cold but soothing and easy. Later that day Thor will have to heal the Wakandan soil at the king T’challa’s request, but now he wishes to have the morning for himself.

When the sun finally arises, Thor watches in reluctance. To see its glow and moment of being brought forth into life drives a shoot of longing into his chest.

Gone are the words spit from hate, the claims of indifference during moments of lingering down from the brink of death, for Thor has never been indifferent to Loki. Gone are the long hate-fueled lingers down the dim corridors of the palace, for what only remains is the promise of an unlikely tomorrow and the hope for a miracle of rebirth.

Thor wraps a hand around his wounded bicep, palms searching for the trail of seidr Loki had left underneath his skin when held by Thor back in the Sakaarian ship.

He does not find it.

When his eyes hurt at the brightness, Thor stops staring into the horizon and the subject in the sky altogether. Vague voices fill the air and Thor walks away as he too fades into them.

…

The next day, the sky is still dim. Thor steps out of the Wakandan facility burdened with a rigid back and a neck too sore from straining above the couch’s armrest as he slept. Last night he had refused to take up the bed—it reminded him of his chambers back in Asgard and the soft dip of the mattress made him feel like he was being swallowed whole.

It’s early, _too_  early for the sun to be up, but still Thor awaits its awakening.

A familiar sting of longing pokes at his gut; the contact is sudden but expected and Thor flinches at the wave of sorrow that washes over him.

Sweat tickles the back of his palms and Thor ignores the rash slip of his fingers against rough pads. Still the axe does not reside in his hands, the fear of not being able to lift it sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the reasons why Thor still hasn’t addressed the bigger matter at hand.

Loki’s blood is smeared across his wrist—a quick but equally agonizing reminder that has drilled itself into Thor’s conscience right before the ship exploded and the first thing Thor had been able to grasp was the stab wound below Loki’s rib cage.

Thor is reminded of the way how Loki’s eyes refused to flutter shut even with the life forced out of him and the last breath he ought to take stolen. None of Thor’s words of desperation managed to reach his brother’s ears for they fell into nothingness like golden dusts of ruin.

The grass clings to the sole of his boots. Thor blinks once, twice, and scans the area for a brief moment. The trees block his vision from the more exposed area of the city, casting shadows of seclusion and privacy where Thor stands unmoving.

It’s good like this, with no one to witness how he’s stripped himself off the layers that hide his agony. Bare and naked with the truth, unconcealed by a feigned demeanor.

Perhaps Loki would’ve thrown him off and jested how pathetic it was to indulge in this phase of moping, but Thor just cannot help but do so, not without Loki around to banter with, not when Thor is on the brink of death himself, unwilling to pass up any opportunity to die if it means catching those sapphire orbs full of life again.

There’s no one around, so Thor speaks to the brisk wind. “I would do _anything _.__ ”

Do what, Thor doesn’t know, nor does he hope to know soon, but he would search the ends of all realms to find peace with his brother’s passing.

He _swears_ it.

...

It rains the next day, and Thor finds the nearest umbrella even before the first drop trickles along his cheeks.

With the sky pouring, Thor’s head becomes a void wrapped in a hazy fog of solitude. The world’s unusually silent; even when he closes his eyes, Loki does not appear.

Indeed, Thor sees pale hands and a mop of black curls that fall pliant between the pads of his thumb and forefinger. Sapphire eyes appear invisible even to his imagination, and Thor’s chest tightens with the aching agony.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice timid and sly, and the hand that’s clasped around the shaft of the umbrella loosens its hold.

When the umbrella falls to the ground and Thor’s now soaked hair is matted against his forehead, the rain doesn’t cease. The sky remains cracking in shards and he stands there motionless, chest heaving evenly as he awaits what is expected.

The sun does not shine that day.

…

When Thor trails to the fields the next morning, Steve is already there.

He’s standing by the elevated grounds that offer a fair view over the land, an arm leaning against the bark of a tree as he regards Thor with a silent nod and stands with him unspeaking.

Thor isn’t for a certain if having company around is something he looks forward to, but for now he doesn’t say anything, and waits for Steve to speak up instead.

“What’s so fascinating that’s got you crawling out first thing every dawn?”

It’s an innocent question, and for a moment Thor considers risking “Loki” as an answer because it’s what he figures to be the truth. But it’s not. There is no longer anyone he can hope for, just the unlikely possibility of them reappearing.

“The sun,” Thor says. He sounds reluctant saying it, and perhaps it is because he just cannot help but doubt the single thought he’s been trying so hard to believe.

It rains later that night, the clouds’ pouring even heavier than it had been the day before. Thor does not fall asleep for a long time, but when he finally does, his sheets are drenched in angry tears.

…

The next morning, Steve is still there. He greets Thor with a cup of caffeine which Thor accepts gratefully.

“Does anything ever change?” Steve had asked, to which Thor had spent a lot of time thinking about something to answer. When he doesn’t say anything right away, Steve only waits patiently. The gush of air that sweeps across their faces sends subtle shivers running.

“Only time,” Thor says. It’s nothing but the truth, but a small part of him is embarrassed to admit even the reality of the situation.

They don’t speak for a while; the only sounds audible are the discreet slurping from the still searing mugs in their hands and the uneasy pulse audible only to Thor’s ears. There is much he could tell Steve about his appreciation over the company he has willingly offered, but for now, Thor decides to save the matter for another time.

“I almost lost him, you know?” Steve speaks up after a while. The shift in the conversation forces Thor to throw his friend a quick side-way glance.

There are purple welts covering one side of Steve’s face like a canvas—a reminder of the punch thrown by the titan who had unsuccessfully attempted to take half of humanity’s last breath. He still sports a beard, long hair framing his forehead several inches past his temples.

Steve’s gaze is set far into the horizon, focus and vision set adrift and Thor spends mere two seconds before finally latching his gaze exactly to where Steve is looking at.

Sergeant Barnes stands not far away, strands of deep umber pulled into a bun behind his skull and his metal arm lying pliant against his side. Steve looks over to the figure with an obvious trace of longing on his face, and Thor watches his friend with a heavy heart.

It could’ve been Loki whom he held the night before this dawn, hogging most of the sheets on Thor’s bed while continuously shying away from his brother’s blindly reaching arms. Thor would’ve awoken from the blinding streaks of the sun openly flashing from the drapes Loki happened to tie up—a habit of his Thor has already grown accustomed to despite growing agitated every time Loki does it after having been forced to share a room with his brother.

Even the vague image of Loki waking along the Wakandan soil allows warmth to spread across Thor’s chest. Only a rapid blink of his eyes forces him to see Loki’s corpse instead.

‘Such luck you have,” Thor comments, trying not to dwell on the way those words sting. Steve casts him a look wordlessly. With a breath, Thor speaks out the burden inside his chest. “To see the person whom you’d lay down your life for, still breathing.”

Steve gives him a pointed look. “He never left you.”

“He never will,” Thor finds himself agreeing. The sun radiates far into the stretch of the horizon, a place of tranquility too far to even dream of reaching. “He saved me.”

Steve speaks of nothing later on when the King T’challa calls them in for another team discussion, but he does not cross paths with Thor without offering a subtle nod of acknowledgement along the way.

Later that night, Thor calls out to the stars with a whisper of Loki’s name. Tears flow freely along with the agony gushing from the wound in his chest, stars blinking far from the void when his knees hit the grass in defeat.

He sends his last prayer to his brother, and the axe detaches itself from the ground when Thor finds it in the rear of the woods and lifts it without a single trace of hesitation.

Peace is not something Thor will find on Midgard, not even with the encouragement his companions ought to shower him with when times become tough and tomorrow has turned vague to his vision.

Steve meets Thor in the woods right before he takes flight. Confusion is written on Steve’s face but if he’s trying not to show it, it’s working. Thor bows his head in silent gratitude.

“’Til we meet again,” Steve tells him.

Thor nods in reply. “If fate allows it.”

The Bifrost blankets him in streaks of white and red at the call of Stormbreaker. Thor takes one last glance at the green Wakandan fields, sees sapphire eyes when he blinks, and imagines the golden glow of the sun over Loki’s face.

With Loki’s promise engraved on his already dispirited soul, Thor will continue searching across the realms and lifetimes even those unknown to him. For what, Thor doesn’t know, but he’s willing to bet that at the tail ends of time and all universes, he will meet Loki again.

This time with the sun shining.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think?
> 
> thank you for reading! Find me as lokis-golden-horn on tumblr to catch my fic updates. Feedback and kudos are very much appreciated! 
> 
> Also, who's up for Loki suffering from an acute cardiovascular illness and Thor being the big overprotective brother that he is?
> 
> SOON.


End file.
